Fiend or Foul

I beat the dead; they don't fight back, They have no need, they have no lack, They bear the marks of my attack, I beat the dead; they don't react. Call me fiend, or call me foul, Throw me to the dogs that bite and howl, Before you point a finger or cry an empty tear, buy yourself a alibi, get yourself a mirror. I rob the poor; they don't mind, I take whatever I happen to find; it's never much at any one time, I rob the poor; it's not a crime. Call me fiend, or call me foul, Throw me to the dogs that bite and howl, Before you point a finger or cry an empty tear, better get yourself a alibi, buy yourself a mirror. I beat the dead, I beat the dead. I kill the children before they're born, as their little feet begin to form, Don't buy them shoes; they won't get worn, I kill the children; I am not scorned. Call me fiend, or call me foul, Throw me to the dogs that bite and howl, Before you point a finger or cry an empty tear, buy yourself a alibi, get yourself a mirror. I beat the dead, I beat the dead.